I come from Eritrea. It’s a really small country tucked in the Horn of Africa. Whenever I travel, be it Dubai, Zurich, Marrakesh, Amsterdam, Jeddah or anywhere else, people I meet don’t know where it is. I always have to mention Sudan or Somalia to give them a clue. We gained our independence in 1991, so I guess it’s understandable. Or not.
But we have a coastline stretching over 1,000 kilometers. Such a flex. We’ve made headlines more than once. You know Biniam Girmay? He won three stages in 2024’s Tour de France. Yeah, he’s Eritrean. And the late Nipsey Hussle? Eritrean roots as well. Alexander Isak? Come on. The current record holder in the UK, in terms of money paid to transfer him from Newcastle to Liverpool. Yep, he has that gene from Eri. Tiffany Haddish? She’s Eritrean too, though I hesitate to mention her… for reasons I’d rather keep to myself.
Anyway, that’s a short intro to my country. I could go on, but it might bore you. Or you could just ChatGPT it. We’re in a fake, robotic world now anyway. But what I’m about to share? This is my story. Not something a machine can generate. Because stories are unique. And the way we tell them? Even more so.
Oh, just one more fact to remember Eritrea with. Ethiopia is the only African country in history to have colonized another recognized African territory. Some say Liberia did too, but that’s a different case. The country Ethiopia colonized? Sadly, it was Eritrea. For anyone who says Ethiopia never colonized Eritrea, let me rephrase it to make you feel heard, 'Ethiopia is the only African country in modern history to have militarily occupied and annexed a fellow African territory with internationally recognized distinct status.' Yikes, such a stain in their history.
I’ve lived in Eritrea all my life. I did visit Ethiopia and Saudi Arabia, but I was too young to even realize I was abroad. My mom always tells me how restless I became the moment we left Eritrea. I’d cry and cry. She says it was like there was a direct link between two hearts, my heart and Eritrea’s, if we imagine it has a heart of its own. I used to laugh it off as an exaggeration. But she never changed her story.
So, what is it about this country that holds the heart so tightly? What’s the secret? These questions might deserve a deep dive, especially if you look at Eritrea’s economic and social stats. Search Eritrea online and you’ll find headlines like “The North Korea of Africa” or “The Country with No ATM Machines.” Not exactly flattering. The picture painted is so grim, you’d think even stray dogs would avoid it. Most of the headlines are exaggerated. Many are outright false. To make it fair, at least mention good things about the country fgs. Like, the tranquil maybe?
Fast forward to 2018. I travelled to Ethiopia again. This time, I wasn’t a child. I planned to stay for two full months. But as the days passed, something felt off. My heart wasn’t with me. I didn’t know why. The vacation was fine, but I cut it short and came back after just a month.
The moment I stepped into the living room of our family’s house in Cambobollo, a nice neighbourhood in the city of Asmara, there it was - my heart, waiting. I was happy again. I promised not to leave it behind anymore.
Six years later, in 2024, I nearly broke that promise. But only temporarily. I set off on a journey that mixed study and a bit of work. It took me nearly a month to convince the heart to come along. So, it was not a broken promise but an act of persuasion. We flew to Dubai. A treat for the eyes, maybe not so much for the heart. As soon as we landed, I felt it. The heart started to speak to me. Not in words, but in sharp, sudden pains. At first, I thought I was sick. Home-sick. But it wasn’t sickness, it was communication.
The heart laid out its terms: if I did anything it didn’t like, I’d feel pain. It was its way of punishing me for leaving Eritrea, and making it leave too. I agreed.
At Dubai International Airport, everything felt big and bright. I was excited. A new place, new goals. I was ready. I went to a kiosk to buy a SIM card. The woman behind the counter had curly hair and a Lebanese charm. She offered me a package with 60GB. I was about to pay, then the heart itched. Hard. Breach of terms. And that was just the beginning. I’ll tell you more about the itches in later articles. Especially the sharp ones in London, Paris and Birmingham. I will also write about the Lebanese lady; in case you are wondering why I brought her up here.
But back to the main thing. What’s up with this heart? Why is it so attached to Eritrea? Is that a good thing? Can it ever break free?
“Some hearts are born rooted. You can carry them across oceans, but they will always beat to the rhythm of home.”
After many late-night talks with myself, I realized there are three reasons why Eritrea grips the heart so tightly. It is more than three if I’m being honest, but let’s do three for now.
First, the people. Kind. Humble. Respectful. Yes, other cultures have caring communities too. Like the Amish. Or the Ubuntu spirit in Southern Africa. But Eritreans take it to another level. I remember a bright writer named Sultan, who once said, “I am because we are.” Eritreans live that every day. If you slap an Eritrean, he might just turn the other cheek. Call it foolish, but it shows the depth of humility and grace I’ve seen in my people. I know many people would belittle that and call it an obstacle to progress. Trust me, inside, they know that’s the way in life. Also, if that’s actually true, progress can take the backseat. The heart yearns for this.
Second, the architecture. The Italians once called Asmara “Piccola Roma” - Little Rome. They built it to resemble their home. And they left their mark. Italian design woven into African culture. A beautiful mix. Every building tells a story. And this isn’t just in Asmara. Cities like Massawa, Aqurdat, and Keren hold the same charm. You can’t find that even in Roma. The heart got used to that and thought would never flinch.
Third, the simplicity. Streets are quiet. The air feels light. No rush. No endless internet distractions. No ATMs either - yes, that’s true. Just life, raw and unfiltered. Maybe you think that’s a bad thing. But maybe you’re too caught up in this world to know what’s good anymore.
The heart isn’t happy. It misses home. It doesn’t care about money. Or knowledge. Or progress. It wants what it wants. And what it wants… is Eritrea. And one who fights the heart is unwise.
“We were like that when we first went out. You will get used to it. At least we did!”
Ah yes, the classic survival badge. How inspiring.